


Beyond The Sea

by taormina



Category: Take That (Band)
Genre: Crack Fic, Dream Sex, Hand Job, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, merman au, porn with a bit of plot, tour spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:53:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3867763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taormina/pseuds/taormina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gary dreams that Mark is a merman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond The Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Contains tour spoilers.

When Mark suggested an underwater theme for their upcoming live performance of _The Garden_ , his idea got an incredibly lukewarm reception.

It wouldn’t work, said Gary uncharacteristically. It just wouldn’t. There was _no way_ on God’s Earth that they’d be able to recreate the bottom of the ocean on such a grand scale with such a tight budget, and anyway; the song was called _The Garden_ , not _The Sea Urchin_.

The latter was Gary’s final argument against the idea, and they soon carried on discussing how much ticker tape they’d need every night.

(Or as Howard put it, how much fan mail needed shredding.)

Mark, being Mark, decided to go back to the drawing board immediately and came back two days later with a vibrant mood board and a few design sketches that he’d done himself. Gary and Howard, suddenly seeing the potential, said they both loved it.

That, in short, is how Take That spent the next few weeks looking at pictures of jellyfish and watching sea life documentaries from the BBC in order get a rough idea of what they wanted to achieve.

(They also did an impromptu viewing of The Little Mermaid, as per Mark’s request.)

The Garden being arguably their biggest production of the night, they had a mammoth-sized task getting it right. As such, it didn’t take long for Gary’s mind to be taken over by the performance and the planning thereof completely.

He worried about it _a lot_ : he spent day and night wondering how to make the concept better than it currently was, and by the time he went to bed at the end of a long day all he could see in his mind’s eye were the set pieces and costumes that were currently being made. The massive, soaring jellyfish. The dancers dressed up as sea horses. Bubbles. So, so many bubbles. Gary found himself falling, falling, falling past octopuses’ tentacles and colourful sea stars until he hit the ground gently.

He’d fallen asleep.  

When he opened his eyes again a while later, he had already gotten up, and saw that he was standing on a meticulous little beach.

He must be dreaming.

Right?

It was a white beach, the type you only ever see on desktop backgrounds, with a clear blue sky and a lone palm tree in the middle. The sound of the waves was the perfect soundtrack. The sand was hot to the touch. The setting was perfect, but upon waking up Gary would have been disappointed to find out he had ‘only’ been dreaming about some beach. It just wasn’t very exciting, and he’d probably have wished to wake up there and then if he had had not been presented with the perfect, near-pornographic image of Mark lying near the palm tree.

Mark. On a beach.

Half-naked.

His thin, perfect body was _soaked_ , and Gary found himself staring a little bit too long at his erect nipples.

Also, he had a tail. As in, an actual merman tail.

Gary had seen Mark naked plenty of times (unfortunately only during tours, in God-awful dressing rooms), but this was something else: it was like all of Gary’s birthdays had come at once, and Gary regretted to find out that _he_ was fully clothed.

He wished his brain had come up with an outfit that wasn’t so tight.

Still, Mark was a merman in this dream. Interesting. Gary would have to look that one up in a dream dictionary.

Part of Gary was tempted to pinch himself. He just _had_ to find out whether what he was seeing was real or not. Then again, he might then wake up and not remember anything in the morning…

Upon seeing Mark run his fingers through his wet hair in a way that only a dirty mind could have come up with, Gary decided that he’d **definitely** stay in this dream world for a while longer.

‘What’re ya doing on me beach?’ Mark asked Gary, who had frozen to the spot.

Gary hadn’t considered the idea that he might have been trespassing.

‘Um.’

Then again, this was _his_ dream; why _wouldn’t_ he be allowed to be here?

‘I, er … Hang on …’

‘Anyway, never mind that,’ said Mark before Gary could say something stupid, ‘What’re _those_?’ He gestured vaguely at Gary’s legs.

Gary looked down. He hadn’t really thought much about his legs before. They were all right as far as legs go. A bit thick still, but he was working on it. ‘They’re, um, legs.’

 ‘ _Legs_ ,’ said Mark, drawing out the word ponderously. He seemed to like the sound of the word. ‘Hm.’

Feeling awkward, Gary decided to sit down. Is this how the Prince in The Little Mermaid felt?

‘Where’s your … you know?’ said Mark next, now pointing at his own tail.

Gary wasn’t an expert on merman aesthetics, but Mark’s tail was incredibly pretty. It was blue like the ocean, and the tiny scales that ran down his belly to the long, silvery fins at the bottom end of the tail were reflecting the light perfectly. The tail was long too, _really_ long, and the blue hues were accentuating Mark’s tan, taut body perfectly. It was an extremely pretty sight, like a picture out of a male pin-up book.

Not that Gary knew what those books looked like, of course.

‘It’s, er, Christ,’ stammered Gary, his brain suddenly having decided to picture himself doing something downright _filthy_ to Mark’s chest, ‘I, er, I don’t have one. A tail, that is.’

Suddenly Gary wasn’t so sure whether having legs was normal or not.

He might be about to have an existential crisis.

‘So why d’you cover your legs with…?’ Mark asked Gary curiously, now referring to Gary’s trousers.

Gary must not have remembered what they did or said next in the dream, for Mark had come closer.

_Much_ closer.

They were now _tantalizingly_ close, and it took a few seconds for Gary’s brain to fully register the fact that Mark had suddenly leaned forward and pulled down his trousers and boxers. In one go. When Mark then touched Gary’s cock without warning, Gary responded with an extremely pornographic moan. It was the only thing in the dream didn’t need any explaining, and Gary started blushing furiously.

He figured that a dream dictionary wouldn’t have a section on impromptu hand jobs.

Only _his_ brain would come up with something straight out of a porn film. 

_God_.

Mark raised his eyebrows in surprise, a smile playing on his lips as he touched Gary’s cock again, gentler this time. ‘You enjoy this?’

_Oh God yes, please_.

He hoped he hadn’t moaned in his sleep.

Fuck, he probably had.

‘Y-yes,’ stammered Gary. The part of Gary’s brain that was still awake _knew_ that indulging in this fantasy was wrong, so, so wrong – indeed, regardless of what kind of state or weird alternate universe he was in. However, this _was_ just a dream; here, no one would ever know what he _really_ wanted to do to Mark. Here, he could have his way with him like he never could in real life.

Gary suddenly had an idea. ‘I’ll – I’ll show you. Um, if you want.’

Mark nodded slowly, and Gary made a mental note to try to remember as many details of the dream as possible.

Gary wasn’t fully hard yet, but the way Mark was looking at him was doing a very good job at getting him hot. Spurred on by Mark’s unspoken curiosity, Gary squeezed his cock and rubbed the head with his thumb. He hit a sensitive spot and inhaled sharply. He could vaguely smell the saltiness of the sea. The hot sand. The shower gel he’d washed himself with in the shower before turning in. Mark’s _skin_.

He’d dreamed of this often: jerking himself off while Mark watched, sometimes even the other way around.

This particular dream was better than the others, though; with his hair wet, and sand sticking to his wet skin, Mark looked like a fucking porn star.

The tail was kind of a turn on, too, and Gary started stroking the part of Mark’s tail where his thighs would ordinarily be with his free hand. It felt strange, like petting a slippery fish, but Mark seemed to enjoy it, for his cheeks had flushed a bright red and his breathing had become uneven. Gary had always imagined that Mark would look amazing when he came, and this was the next best thing.

When a faint whimper thus escaped Gary’s lips, Mark flicked away Gary’s hand and decided _he’d_ have a go. Learning fast, Mark started pumping his fist up and down Gary’s cock slowly, and pretty much every thought that Gary had ever had disappeared into thin air.

_Definitely_ the best dream ever.

‘Good?’ asked Mark. He sounded husky, _turned on_ , and there was a look in his eyes that Gary hadn’t really seen before.

_Desire_.

‘Christ, yes,’ said Gary, his voice no more than a whisper. Already, he felt an orgasm building in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t going to last long if Mark was going to keep looking at him like that.

A drop of water ran down Mark’s face and rested at his lips, and Gary felt his world spin.

_Fuck it, he had to kiss him._

‘C’mere, you.’ Gary pulled Mark’s wet, half-naked body on top of him and kissed him hard, his nails digging into the small of Mark’s back. Thankfully it would seem that mermen had a concept of kissing, too, for Mark returned the kiss with such enthusiasm that it nearly left Gary breathless.

Unfortunately it was all over far too soon; the kiss was so exquisite that it didn’t take long for Gary to come in hot spurts all over Mark’s fingers, his eyes shut in ecstasy. When he opened his eyes again, he awoke to see the cracked ceiling of the hotel room he was staying in.

The ghost of Mark’s touch still lingered on his skin.

Gary wasn’t quite going to rehearse _The Garden_ in the same way today.

**Author's Note:**

> No sea creatures were hurt in the making of this fic.


End file.
